


Cage

by terraplan



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-11
Updated: 2011-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-16 21:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terraplan/pseuds/terraplan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There had been days when he'd just sit at his desk, wondering what sins had he committed to deserve such a fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cage

There had been days when he'd just sit at his desk, wondering what sins had he committed to deserve such a fate. He’d look around, slowly. There were books, and he didn’t mind books. There were maps and instruments of knowledge, and those he genuinely liked. There were even high windows where the sun was always shining, casting beautiful dancing shadows across the floor.

But no matter how embellished and furnished his cage was, it was still a cage. There had been days when he couldn’t help but feel like he was paying for a crime he hadn’t committed.

At first, he’d just feel sorry for himself. He’d exhaust himself with the ‘ifs’. If only Altaïr had heed his warnings. If only Altaïr had been less arrogant and egoistical. If only his brother hadn’t followed Altaïr’s every word as if spoken by God himself.

If only he had broken the tenants of the Creed himself, leaving Altaïr alone to do as he pleased.

But he hadn’t.

He hadn’t been capable of doing so then and still wasn’t now. He had thought about revenge, for endless hours in fact, but never in the form of murder. He’d entertained innumerable forms of physical pain and psychological abuse, but never considered ending his life. That was how ingrained the Creed was in his soul.

He had lived by the Creed his entire life. Solomon’s Temple had been by far his biggest probation, but he hadn’t faltered for a second, jumping after Altaïr with the same swiftness as his brother. And this was what he had gotten in return. This… shadow of what he once was. He was a fool for being this loyal still to the very tenants that had destroyed his life. But casting them away was the same as casting a part of himself.

He’d grown accustomed to it all, though. To the new balance in his body and the way it behaved when fighting; to his new duties as Dai and the occasional boredom that came with it, to the new routines in the new city that was Jerusalem. He’d grown accustomed to it all but one thing.

He could not, absolutely could not stand the condescending look he got from every single brother that visited the bureau. It infuriated him beyond reason and he hated to pretend he believed the false candidness of their words. He endured this every single day of his life from all of those that knew of his predicament.

Well, from all but one.

Malik caressed the spine of the book where he kept track of all the missions carried out in Jerusalem. He had slammed that book on the table one too many times just to faze Altaïr’s stance of stubborn conceit. But the truth was, Altaïr was the only one who looked him straight in the eye as if they were still equal men, as if nothing had happened since they had started to fight together. Whether it was out of denial or simple refusal to acknowledge that he had been at fault, Malik didn’t know. But the fact remained, from Altaïr he could always expect to be regarded as as much of a man as he’d ever been.

He’d spent so many days and so many nights thinking of ways to get back at him, to force him off the pedestal he had placed himself on; for some time that was all that kept him going. He’d pick on every little detail he could find to diminish the demoted assassin as much as he could. Giving the man a taste of his own medicine. Venting at the only person that could take it and simply had the moral obligation to.

Could that be the reason why he’d find himself looking forward to Altaïr’s visits? Perhaps. After all, those occasions were when he felt most like himself, like his old self. It felt good. Familiar, comfortable, empowering. Reminiscent of another life, one that had been taken from him before he was ready to let go. And so he’d needle Altaïr for his shortcomings and Altaïr would respond back with either a shrug of feigned indifference or equally sarcastic remarks.

It was enough to keep him going, for a while.

But Malik had never been a man to settle for illusion, no matter if it kept him in his comfort zone. He wanted to still his restless soul, he wanted to find serenity in his work as a Dai. He wanted to live by the Creed with restored faith. And although he’d done little to translate thoughts into actions, he began to see the world change around him. The brothers would now address him as a knowledgeable Dai with valuable insight for difficult missions. His own private missions had granted him an aura of fearful respect around the city.

And Altaïr…

He sighed, running his fingers through the pages of the book. Altaïr had changed as well. He’d matured much through his long journey to restore his rank, learned important lessons that’d escaped him the first time. Malik knew he’d been a catalyzer of sorts, although sometimes resorting to… unconventional means.

He looked down, automatically hiding his eyes although no one was there to guess at his less than pristine thoughts. He felt no shame for the way their relationship had evolved. Something strong and intense emerged from their time together, something that Malik would be able to express better if he were a man of words. It was something powerful, like a spread-winged eagle in the very moment before taking flight from the highest tower in the highest city, something that tasted of desert storms and blazing heat, something so extreme that it made Malik try and claw at Altaïr’s very soul, frantic for more.

And Altaïr would let him, always, without reserve.

He drew a deep, steadying breath, suddenly longing and desperate despite knowing that Altaïr would not return so soon. His eyes darted instinctually to the grid in the outer room.

Yes, the grid was similar to that of a cage. But he was grateful for it now, for now it served a purpose. It was a place to return to for the most fascinating eagle he’d ever seen.


End file.
